See, I was Dead when I woke up this Morning
by Summer Leigh Wind
Summary: Pausing mid-stride, Pitch stares at something not within the room and whispers, "I think I know who has Jack." "Who is it then?" Toothiana demands, eyes roving over the wary and curious faces; Pitch's gaze locks on the grim one of the Sandman. The golden man knows just as well as he does who has Jack and it's far from okay. Sequel to Holy Water Cannot Help you Now.
1. I

_**See, I was Dead when I woke up this Morning**_

* * *

_"Seraphina!" He cries, rushing into the chaotic mess of fears and shadows. They surround him, engulfing him in a blinding blackness that causes an even worse fear a bubbling in the pit of his stomach. "Sera..." he whispers, realizing that he's finally been tricked; worn down to the point that he could not tell reality from the fearlings illusions. A frightful cackling begins, shrieks, howling, and bone-white smiles of razor teeth quickly following. Eyes darting for escape, his hand comes to rest on the hilt of his sword; but, the fearlings know it will not save him. They surge forth, engulfing him; they fight their way into his body through his mouth and ears. _

_The monsters ripple through him undoing him as they go; soon he's desperately scratching at his throat as he screams and screams, he can feel them reworking him to their purposes; soon...soon he'll be nothing more than a shadow of a man. Fingers coming to grip the small gold locket around his neck, Kozmotis Pitchiner silently says goodbye to his daughter; feels one tear slip down his face as his heart stops mid-thud. In a near world-ending surge of energy, Kozmotis Pitchiner's heart begins beating anew...but, the malicious razor smirk adorning his face is anything but Kozmotis Pitchiner; no, he's Pitch Black now. Fear **alive**._

"Oi! Dark and broody! Get up!" A voice hollers in his ear.

"Ah!" Pitch can't help yelping, as he startles awake; head hitting the underside of his bed with a painful thud. "Ouch..." he moans. Falling back against his lair's floor, the skinny teenager curls in on himself; hands clutching at the pained spot. Peeking open one glimmering gold eye, he sees Bunnymund simultaneously smirking and scowling at him (how does he do that?). Shimmying out from beneath the bed, he sits himself up and rests his back against the side of the bed.

"What brings you here?" He asks. A shadow comes to the Pooka's eyes and Pitch can feel the delicious fear wafting off him. Feeling a surge of eagerness overtake him, the boogeyman prods the man, "Do tell, what brings _you _out of everyone to my lair?"

Eyes little more than slits at this point, the giant rabbit inquires, "Have you seen Jack lately?"

Puzzled, the teenager shakes his head. "No," he answers, "Why?"

Bunnymund pauses and studies the youth; here they were nearly two years since they found Pitch, but he was still just a kid and his new youth showed. He got along easily with Jack, it was strange _not _to see them together. "Well," he starts, "We haven't seen him in about a month, what about you?"

The Nightmare King shrugs. "I don't know, maybe three weeks? Three and a half?" He offers.

Tapping a foot, Bunnymund reaches down snagging the kid up from the ground. "Let's get going, the rest of the guardians are waiting for me ta get back with you." He tells him.

Black, though, has never been easily lead. "No!" He snaps, "What's going on? Why are we so worried about Jack all of a sudden?" He demand. More than confused and a little guilty, Pitch mutters, "I just thought he was trying to be funny not coming around so long..."

The Pooka grunts. "North'll explain it to you when we get to his place, alright?"

The teenager wants to refuse, wants to argue some more and actually get a few answers; but, with the way Bunnymund's nose is twitching he knows that it isn't a good idea. He's already agitated and to make him anymore so will make him get...physical. If he refuse anymore, it's likely the guardian of hope will bodily take him to North's Workshop and wouldn't that be embarrassing? Being manhandled by a giant _rabbit._

Sighing with a bit more feeling than necessary, Pitch offers an arm to the Easter bunny. "Let's go," he grumbles.

Bunnymund smirks (the bastard).

* * *

Coming to the workshop, Pitch is a little more than surprised to see the strained expressions on the other Guardians' faces. Crossing his arms, he demands, "Just how serious is this thing with Jack?"

North opens his mouth, but Mother Nature comes up behind him; green fingers trailing along his lips to silence him (ew). "Very," she murmurs, "I haven't been able to find him anywhere that winter should be and it's beginning to become lawless without his help."

The youth crosses his arms. "I think weather is lawless no matter what, M," he reminds her. She scowls in a way that shows she is far from amused with his remark.

Toothiana from next to Mother Nature, scowls deeply. "Stop being such a jerk! This is serious," the tooth fairy snaps at him.

Beginning to pace, Pitch begins to wonder..."Tell me everything you known and all of your ideas," he orders; because, even if he is now younger than all of them in appearance, he is still the oldest amongst them all on this world.

North is the one to first speak, "When I last see Jack, he said he feel someone was following him."

"Good," Pitch mutters, beginning to go through a number of spirits in his mind that have a tendency for following (stalking) others. It's still a rather large bunch, but not nearly as large as the whole world's spirits. "Where was the last place anyone saw him?" He asks then.

"North America," Mother Nature answers, "I saw him shortly after he finished visiting you."

"Hm.." Pitch mutters, that cuts out a few more; it can't be anyone who's based outside of the Americas...swiftly turning to North he questions further. "Has he had this feeling outside of the Americas?"

"Ah," the old man blinks, "Yes, I do believe so," he agrees.

"A worldly spirit, who has a tendency to follow others..." Pitch mumbles.

"Oi," Bunnymund cuts in, "Frost-bite told me a while back that he thought he saw the guy who was following him; told me he wore black and was carrying somethin' with him."

Pausing mid-stride, Pitch stares at something not within the room and whispers, "I think I know who has Jack."

"Who is it then?" Toothiana demands, eyes roving over the wary and curious faces; Pitch's gaze locks on the grim one of the Sandman. The golden man knows just as well as he does who has Jack and it's far from okay.

Making eye contact with each and every one of the Guardians, Pitch utters, "Death," at the round of gasps he breathes, "Death has Jack."

* * *

**So, here's like a honest to god sequel to _Holy Water Cannot Help you Now. _I can't believe I'm doing this...Anyway, tell me what you think and if this seems like an interesting progression from where we left off in _Before the Day is Done._ In the mean time, why don't you guys take a look at some of my other Pitch Black fics? May I suggest to you _And you are the Mother _featuring Fem!Pitch, I'm quite proud of this one and I do have another series in the works, it's called _Leave all your Love and Loving Behind you (if you Want to Survive). _That one is a Zombie-AU.**

**Finally, thanks for reading and please review and let me know what you think of all this! :)**


	2. II

_**See, I was Dead when I woke up this Morning**_

* * *

"How do we find death?" Bunnymund inquires.

Pitch can't help the laughter that spills from his lips. "You're kidding!" He wheezes. But, all Pitch receives is a number of unhappy faces that border on being almost sheepish. Gaping up at them, his gaze darts from each face; finally landing on Sanderson who's the only one who looks the least bit grim. "My god, you've been alive how long and none of you have _ever _met death?" He demands.

North shrugs. "What we do not has the darker tint yours involves, we are light and liveliness; death not come into play." He explains to the teenager.

The king of nightmares, stares at them in something akin to horror. "Not even once...?" At the row of shaking heads; he turns desperate to his daughter.

"I'm life, where would I cross death?" Mother Nature frowns during answer. After a careful pause, Pitch's eyes meander to the mute man gathered with the ignorant.

"But, you...?" He murmurs.

A gold image of children in rows upon rows of beds coughing and being sick comes to life; the sandman brushing through, giving gentle dreams...while a being barely anymore than bones flits by some beds only to stop before a couple. At each, he leans down and steals the labored breath of the youths and tenderly closes their eyes for them. The miniature sandy, glances the breath-stealing being's way; he tips his head in silence. They look away and go about their work.

"Fevered dreams don't always last I suppose..." The teenager whispers while the others are quietly stunned.

"Oh that's awful!" Toothiana whimpers, "I can't image having to witness it in person!"

Sanderson, for his part, shrugs. Pitch appreciates it, to know he isn't the only one who has witnessed this burden. Clearing his throat, he asks his counterparts, "Do you know how we are going to find Jack now?"

They look to him in confusion, but, then Mother Nature's eyes widen and she murmurs, "You don't mean we are-"

Nodding his head, Pitch tells her, "It doesn't have to be a child...just a person."

"We have to watch someone die," Bunnymund says looking quite mulish.

"It's the best way to meet the reaper," Pitch smirks.

A strange shape to her lips, Toothiana's face takes an unhappy look. "That doesn't...it doesn't seem _right_," she mumbles.

Pitch shrugs at her. "What else would you suggest?" He questions, "It's the most decisive option we have."

The bird-woman sighs. "You're right..." she relents.

"Good!" Pitch exhales, "Now, we just need to find a place where someone is dying..."

"A hospital," Mother Nature says, "An ER more specifically."

North features twist suddenly, "M, you say you never see death but-"

"Not _now_, Nicholas." She hisses. The old man blinks, but allows the woman's behavior to pass with little more notice.

"Can we go?" Bunnymund snaps, "We don't got time for this!"

"Of course," the Boogeyman agrees, "Just follow me..."

* * *

They stand amidst a number of doctors and nurses as they try to save the life a woman probably not more than twenty five; "Get me another blood transfusion! She's losing blood too much blood!" One doctor shouts as they do their best to stem the bleeding from her throat. The woman coughs blood and shudders, her eyes flitting open briefly.

"Do we really have to watch this?" Toothiana whispers.

Pitch shrugs. "Look away if you choose, but Death will join us any minute." He reminds them all. The frightening part of it all is that the teenager isn't _wrong, _the woman's fading fast. Struggling admirably against her fate, the dying woman sputters and more blood dribbles from her lips; yet, her fight doesn't help her now as her eyelids become weighted and her breathing starts to come in little more than spurts.

Causing nearly everyone to jump, a hand so white it could be bone, reaches over the mouth of the young woman. A final exhale is coaxed from her and with it, a pearl of white light passes from her lips and the hand takes it. He opens a little sac tied on his waist and lowers it in. Once it's away and the doctors around them are crying out their rage over having lost the woman does the being turn.

Death smiles at them, showing a row of terrible yellow teeth. "Ah," he says, "I wondered when you'd come for me."

Pitch hums. "Then you do have Jack?" He concludes.

The being's red eyes wander to the King of Nightmares. "What's happened to you, comrade? Finally beginning to lose the war?" He inquires, sounding almost snide.

The boy stiffens. "No," he replies. "I've won it, I believe," he tells Death, locking in a glare with those unnerving sanguine eyes.

The being gives a rattling chuckle. "If you say," he shrugs.

"You have Jack?" North demands.

Death's eyes break from Pitch's and settle on North. "Even if I do," he begins evasively, "You have nothing better I want."

"Why _would _you have taken Jack?" Pitch asks, knowing just how well this game was to go.

Death grins again, "He's evaded me long enough; the Man in the Moon has never offered anything worthy of trade, so I simply took what was rightfully mine." He explains.

Mother Nature steps towards him. "What do you want?" She demands, "I could-" she begins her eyes slanting in that way they do often around North.

The being, though, refuses her. "No," he tells her in clipped tones. "The novelty was spent," he chortles; making Mother Nature scowls at him as her arms crossed protectively around her middle. His eyes wander to Pitch then, "Though..."

"That's not going to happen," Mother Nature hisses, coming to block the youth from view. "Name whatever else you desire."

Death smiles in a serene sort of way. "There is nothing else I wish for," he tells the woman. "It is only a matter of time before Jack can't return," the spirit warns, "But...I'll give you some time. I'll come back after you've had a little while to think it through," and the being vanishes in a whisper of smoke.

"M?" North calls, "What was it exactly Death wanted?" He implores unsure, feeling that the answer he hears will make him wish he hadn't asked.

Mother Nature's shoulders lose some of their perpetual poise as they slump slightly. "I made a deal with Death long ago...a deal so you would not die," she utters. Turning to her once-father, her stormy eyes bore into the youth as she elaborates, "Now he wants the same from Pitch in bargain for Jack."

* * *

**So...yeah. Tell me what you guys think, are you liking what's happening? Not? And I got to say Guest-kcr you're super clever! Already figuring out the entire premise to this story :) To readers, Kittyhawk09, Guest-krc, Xion5, Chibissima and Savebygrace94 thank you for your reviews! I appreciate them a ton. Now, I'd like to be at ten reviews by next chapter; I don't think that'll be too hard. **

**Thanks for reading and please review!**


	3. III

_**See, I was Dead when I woke up this Morning**_

* * *

Considering once-Seraphina's face, Pitch takes a step towards her. "What exactly does death want from me, my dear?" He inquires.

In rare show, Mother Nature grimaces. "I won't tell you now," she says to him; eyes barely twitching in the direction of the rest of the Guardians.

The boy's only half-way through nodding when North bursts, "Why not? What can we no know?" His eyes are unusually fierce as he gazes at the woman who twirls easily away from the man and to her child-father.

"Let us go," she tells Pitch, green fingers taking a vine-like grip upon his forearm. The boogeyman stills as they are surrounded by fog, tries to stop the dizzying sensation of the travel before they land somewhere-the clearing! The clearing he and Mother Nature captured butterflies at.

Eyes roving the clearing with more than mild interest, he thinks to ask, "Where is this M?"

The woman shrugs, brushing by to pluck an orange from a low hanging branch. "I can't quite recall, Spain? Portugal perhaps?" She murmurs, fingers running over the dappled skin of the fruit.

The King of Nightmares hums and goes to run a hand over a bush-flushing out a few butterflies. "I see," he replies, "What prompted you to bring us here, then?" He inquires.

The woman sighs and drops the orange; it lands only to sprout into a sapling tree. "I could not tell them," she whispers, "I could not tell _him; _what I-" her lips still, open and mute.

Meandering to her, Pitch pulls himself to full height; just past Mother Nature's brow. "What my dear? What couldn't you tell them?" He implores, voice not even a hush.

She closes her mouth and her face shifts to something unusually uncomfortable. "I-you'll hate me," she utters.

The teenager in rare show brushes his fingers down her cheek. "No, I won't." He disagrees.

Eyes watering, she looks away. "I-he wanted something in exchange for not reaping North's life...I gave him...myself," he admits.

Fury kindles in Pitch's core, rages through his bones like a wild fire. "You shouldn't have had to," he growls, "He shouldn't have demanded that!" He yells. Stomping around a little, he snarls, "He's a disgusting creature! Death has no right to-to-!" He finishes in a wordless howl; his daughter debased all for the sake of _one _man. He should kill North for it. But, his daughter would offer herself anew; he's sure.

Wringing her hands, Mother Nature falls to her knees. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." she whispers.

The boy stills. Suddenly, he's at his once-daughter's side and he's holding her the best he can against his slimmer, smaller, ineffectual body; "It's okay," he whispers, "I don't blame you." She turns her head into his neck and sobs.

The boy doesn't know how long they sit there, huddled against each other grieving for two different things. Him for what was essentially stolen from the once-Seraphina (his daughter, his girl, his _life_) and Mother Nature; her dignity. Fingers causing his coat to strain as Mother Nature's grip strengthens with ungentle emotions; the woman hiccups, "I didn't _want _to, but-he-" she cries some more, her words garbling into something intelligible. Sighing, Pitch resigns himself to waiting; rubbing her back, he leans his face on the back of her head.

"I know, I know..." he murmurs into her dark tangles.

* * *

It's sometime later that Mother Nature takes herself away from him; she dries her eyes and turns her back on him. "He wants the same from you," she tells him.

The King of Nightmares frowns. "I've gathered," he replies, "But, why?"

Her shoulders rise and fall in mirror of an ocean's wave. "Your guess," she mumbles, "Is as good as mine." She doesn't stay any longer; fog congregates around her and then, then she is gone. Pitch exhales at this, it's not that he's surprised that she has done so...it's just that he hadn't wanted her to. Taking a step into the eves of the trees, he lets the shadows lap up his legs and swallow him whole; taking him where he needs to go.

* * *

He lands in his lair to see what he expected, all of the Guardians are gathered; at the sight of him, they jump. North swiftly regains himself and lumbers up to Pitch so he must look up at the older male. "Where you go?" He demands, a red hue to his cheek from something other than cold or jolliness.

Pitch languid in his movements and distant in thought, shrugs unafraid. "Spain, I think," he says, but with a little frown adds, "It could have been Portugal, though."

The old man growls. "No time for games _Pitch, _Jack's life is in danger! What M tell you?"

Blinking aged gold at the man, some of the boogeyman refocuses on the surrounding world and people. "I-" licking his lips, he whispers, "She told me how she saved you from death's clutches."

This takes the man back, "What she tell you?" He inquires, almost hushed in awe.

"She gave herself..." he mutters, "Gave herself for _you_." As if hit, the old man shakes his head.

"No, no..." he warbles, "She shouldn't of."

Pitch sways a bit as he steps around, "She did." He says with a forcefulness, "She did what she's always done!" Teeth bared at the rest of the silent Guardians, the teenager roars, "She did what she always does, she falls for notions; for _love_! Thinks it will be enough to trump all! Thinks it'll be worth suffering! But, is it?!" He demands of the gathered.

They don't answer (not that he expected them to).

"And now!" He howls, "If I-_we _ever want to see Jack again I will have to make the same deal!"

Breathing heavy, he hardly hears Toothiana's near soundless question; "Will you?"

He doesn't know; and that scares Pitch more than anything, if he doesn't, does that mean he's any better than he was before?

* * *

**Well, that's it for this chapter! What do you guys think? Do you Like it? Don't like it? Anyway, school's started today and updates will become pretty sporadic-for every fic. Thanks, Guest-krc, Savedbygrace94, Xion5, 3Shadowprincess, and Feathered Moon Wings for the reviews last chapter! You guys are awesomely awesome because you helped me reach my goal for reviews! :) Since we are doing so well on my goals, I'm hoping by the time I update next this fic can have fifteen reviews? I don't believe that's too much to ask for at all.**

**Thank you for reading everyone and please review!**


	4. IV

_**See, I was Dead when I woke up this Morning**_

* * *

Much to his relief, the Guardians don't force him to choose right then and there; he knows what would have happened if they had. He would have _panicked _and he would have run like a _coward. _It makes his stomach roll all the worse, to think how weak he is; that he thinks of himself before his _friend. _Curling around his stomach in the borrowed bed, Pitch gasps occasionally as he does his best not to be so ridiculous as to cry. He's not hurt, not dead and he has _believers_! But, why then? Why does he feel like he's only a moments breath from death's gate? Closing his eyes, he opens them with a sudden fear as he sits up studying the corners of the room. Death's _not _here is he? Waiting of him to choose? To _force _him to choose?

Trembling, Pitch lays himself back down and closes his eyes once more. He will not think of this, he will rest and he will come up with his _own _choice in the morning. Taking several gulps of breath, the lanky youth manages to put himself into an uneasy rest.

_"You'll watch my back, won't you?" A chime of a voice inquires._

_The memory loses more of it's haze and Kozmotis frowns at the sharp-boned woman before him. "What of Seraphina, Vulpecula*?"_

_She smiles confidently. "My star, you worry so! Our daughter is safe in her bed under my **father's **watch! None shall harm her," waving an arm out at the destruction being wrought outside their home; she demands, "Are you truly going to leave those civilians at the fearlings mercy as they wait for the army?"  
_

_Kozmotis glances once more to the stairs, his daughter-beautiful, intelligent Seraphina sleeps just upstairs...but, his wife speaks truthfully when she says her father guards her-a general. Reaching for his sword resting on the pegs on the wall; the man nods at his wife. "Let us hurry," he tells her._

_Her eyes light for the battle-she is born and breed for such lust, Kozmotis has always realized this; he is the enough to her more. "Come my comrade, we must lay the fear to rest!" She cries pulling her own sword out and swinging open their front door. _

_They step out to find a battleground, screams and cries mingle with the sinister laughter of the fearlings. Surveying further, Kozmotis feels his palms sweat at the red blood seeping to and fro into the cracks of the cobble road. "Koz!" His wife shouts and snapping to attention, the man follows her and takes up his spot beside her as they systematically kill each fearling. Soon, the red in the crooks between the cobble stone fills with the thick black sludge of fear. It's when they are in the thickest of the drove that a single shriek penetrates his ears._

_Startling, he looks towards their home to see the window to-Seraphina!_

_"Kozmotis what are you doing!" Vulpecula calls, shoving back a fearling that he only a second ago he was fending off._

_Stiff and torn, Kozmotis makes his decision and runs. "Seraphina!" He howls running for his home, his starling was in danger; he **had **to protect her **had to**. _

_He doesn't think his feet touch the ground as he darts up the red-clad stairs (why would they carpet the stairs with red when it makes it so much more difficult to tell if blood is soaking in?) He bangs his shoulder into his daughter's door knocking it completely from its hinges. On the bed; his father-in-law's keeled over face down in his daughter's innocent yellow sheets and at the head-Kozmotis sees red._

_The fearling is slayed without mercy and cut to pieces as his daughter cowers in the corner of the bed farthest from her grandfather's corpse; little hands protecting what purity she has left (see no evil, he vaguely thinks). _

_The sudden surge of blood lust gone; Kozmotis drops his sword and approaches his starling. "Are you alright Seraphina?" the man asks in his most gentle voice._

_He catches a glimpse of his daughter's dilated eyes from between a gap of her dirty fingers. "Papa," she warbles, "Mama..." _

_His breath leaving him in a final whoosh; Kozmotis scoops his daughter from the bed and whispers, "Cover your eyes, my star."_

_She shivers against him like a drowned feline and the man picks up his sword again and heads back into the chaos. It feels like child's play as he cuts through the throngs of fear; soon, Kozmotis reaches where he left his wife alone and without his protection. In the middle of a mess of black bodies; he catches a glimpse of blood-drenched cloth and so he kicks away the monster's corpses. Underneath them, he finds Vulpecula's ravaged body and lifeless eyes staring up at him in accusation. Letting his sword slip from his grip one last time the husband and father looks over the devastation of the street and with a sob wracking him falls to the disgusting ground._

_"Your mother is no more, your grandfather is no more, but I **am**!" He wails not quite so much for his daughter's sake but his own._

_Her tiny hand weaves into the back of Kozmots's hair and she murmurs, "and so am I."_

Waking with such a frightful cry, Pitch finds North and Sandy hovering above him. Heart still hammering and not trusting his quivering limbs to hold him if he were to attempt to sit up, the teenager slurs, "What're you doin' here?"

In concern the pair stare down at him. "You scream quite loud," North explains elusively.

Chuckling in a way that it sounds much too like a sob, Pitch brings his arm to rest over his eyes. "Well, when you're fear personified it's not unusual to have a nightmare or two yourself," he imparts to both. A hand tiny and warm attempts to rest on his forehead; but, the teenager flinches violently back. "No," he grinds out, "I will not take any sweet dreams."

"Be reasonable, you need good sleep for..." North trails off desperate.

Flopping over so he doesn't have to keep his eyes hidden with his arm and to hide himself further; the Prince of Nightmares whispers, "Did you know that I was the one who killed my wife?"

"What?" North murmurs.

"I was a rash man," Pitch chortles, "I couldn't ever make a decision when people I loved were at stake." Breath staccatoing, the youth whispers; "I saved one, but not the other; I am a coward and I _will _pick my life before Jack's..."

"You can't-"

"I do!" Pitch howls, twisting so violently and gripping the old man's hand with talon nails. "I do! I will pick myself! I am not self-sacrificing! I did not stay to fight the fearlings and tell my wife to save our daughter! I ran away! I left her without aid and she died because of me!" Tears pouring thickly down his face, the boy mournfully utters, "I let my only best friend die." With yellow eyes fever bright, the Prince of Nightmares darts his gaze between the two men. "Who's to say I won't do it again?"

* * *

**What do you think of _that_? Do you think this seems like a reasonable action-considering the memory/nightmare, of course-or no? Do you like how Sandy and North checked up on him? And what of the memory? What do you think of that in general?**

**BTW Vulpecula is the name I used for Kozmotis's wife in my One-Shot _I'll set you up Against the Stars _which is about Kozmotis and her at a battle academy for children.**

**On another note, I've had this idea swimming in my head that I want some input on. What if North was a young immortal? Like, he's a young man most of the year expect for like December (his birthday month or something?) and Jack didn't know this and found it out? Or I don't know, this old age thing is like a re-charge thing and if it were to be disrupted it would kill him or something? Just an idea I've had, if anyone has anything to say about it (like to further it) or wants to use it or something; let me know! Anything you have to say about it would be awesome.**

**FINALLY, thanks Guest-krc, Savedbygrace94, Xion55, The Chronic Liar and Feathered moon wings for your reviews last chapter! I'm super pleased to see I have fifteen reviews and will be pushing for twenty this chapter. Thanks for reading guys and please review! :)**


	5. V

**_See, I was Dead when I woke up this Morning_**

* * *

Time is running short. No one's demanding a choice, though, (not after _that _revelation) he feels guilty about this. He wanders North's workshop mindlessly, not trusting himself to be responsible if he were to leave. This, however, he thinks is about to change. He hasn't seen Mother Nature since her tale almost a week ago and with a growing frustration, he realizes he cannot make a decision without words with her. Sighing, he slumps against a wall and runs a hand through his hair.

He can't do this.

He _must _do this.

Pushing himself up, Pitch sets out to find North. A time after meandering the halls, he manages to find the old man in the room where he keeps his sleigh; clearing his throat, North looks up.

"Ah, Pitch," he greets; a pained crease between his eyes.

"I'm going to find Mother Nature," he tells the man needlessly.

A light ignites in the man's aged eyes. "She has not been here in while," he remarks.

The youth nods. "I know," he whispers, "I'm going to see if I can't fix it-fix it all."

The man puts aside the rag he was using to clean the sleigh and lumber to Pitch's side. "We never think less of you-no matter what," he lies, a leaded hand on the skinny teenager's shoulder.

Gaze boring into the younger being's eyes, Pitch barely nods his head. "I know," he whispers-and the shadows take him.

* * *

He finds her without too much trouble, he thinks she wanted it that way. Walking up to where she carefully orchestrates the blooming of a field of wild flowers; Pitch can't help but watch a butterfly that flies above it all. It's what people call a Monarch, orange and black, warm and the embodiment of spring; a bird caws above. With more disappointment then he thinks warrants it, he sees a bird swoop down and take out the butterfly;

"How unfortunate," Mother Nature exhales.

Taking several strides so he is next to her, Pitch clasps his hands behind his back and concurs; "It always is."

Kneeling, she picks a little purple thistle flower from the edge of the field and cradles it in her palm. "Look," she whispers and he does. No sooner is his gold stare trained on the flower that it begins to wilt in Mother Nature's hand. "Beauty is fleeting," she remarks. But, as if by miracle where the dead flower now lays, a new one springs forth from her very palm. Holding this new and dead one out to Pitch, the teenager looks up to see her very determined face.

"Beauty is fleeting, but-_but _it always returns," she imparts to him.

Looking to her and then to the flowers, the Nightmare Prince takes the offering. "Thank you," he murmurs.

Her hand caresses his, "I made my choice;" she whispers, "I made my choice because I _knew _I wold be worse off without than with."

Seeing the obstinate gleam in her eye, he understands _why_. "I see," he mumbles. He does now, the choice is so very simple; does he think he will be better off with or without Jack? Will he be able to live with himself if he lets his friend die? Will he be able to live without him? Will he be able to live with the unavoidable scars if he has Jack and M there? Mother Nature only needed North to know she could go on, what of him? Can he live with them?

Her hand closes his fingers around the two flowers, she looks to the horizon and utters; "Death and life, life and death; they are intertwined, even Death cannot keep all spirits within his halls."

Pitch blinks at this. What? What is his daughter saying? Is she...? Does she know something he doesn't? Frowning at her, the teenager replies; "I'll keep that in mind."

She glance briefly at him. "I should hope so," and she leaves in a haze of fog.

Black stares at his hands, life and death, death and life...twining the two flowers together; it comes to him. They are connected, if he could-if he _knew _of a place where death and life were intertwined; where the dead could pass to the living and the living to the dead...pacing Pitch begins to think.

A hospital might be an option, but, no; Death knows to keep an eye on the spirit there, it's a one-way place there. The dead can hover in the land of the living, yet the dead cannot come through. A place where the dead can return to the living...he _knew _he could find this place all he need was-time. He didn't have time. Frowning, the boy stops. Maybe...maybe there was a way to find this place _and _a way to lengthen the time he had to bring Jack through. It would mean acting more the age he was than ever before...it would mean he'd have to _trick _death; it would mean making the being believe he was all of his youth and none of his experience. It would mean beating him in a way that Death could never bring revenge upon any of their heads again.

How, though, was the question.

* * *

**Plotting Pitch? Any ideas guys? Any suggestions for a plan? A way to trick death? Every story I've ever read pretty much says that's impossible...anyway, thanks for the reviews last chapter, Savedbygrace94, Feather moon wings, Chibissima and xion5! You guys are great. I'm really hoping to see twenty five reviews next chapter; this, I think is totally reasonable-it's be almost a month before I can next update! Sorry guys, I have a number of fics going on and it takes me a while to make sure I keep up with all of them. Thanks for reading and please review! :)**

**P.S. I am also now open to being someone's beta, take a look at my beta profile-maybe I could help you! :) I already help a couple of nice girls, Fem America 13 and Lollypop Queen. Truthfully, I think I'd be best suited to helping someone new to writing or writing fanfiction, if you're interested you can PM anytime. **


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